Make a Man
by N.E.P.tunes.out
Summary: "Logan Mitchell was nothing special, Kendall decided as his gaze roved over the hesitantly moving form." It was the first time he saw the smart boy. But as they get to know one another, that mentality changes. Kogan.


Logan Mitchell was nothing special, Kendall decided as his gaze roved over the hesitantly moving form. The boy was small, scrawny. Practically no muscles beneath the nearly translucent skin. And that perpetual pout his lips were poised in added nothing to the already nonexistent intimidation factor. After sizing this often silent boy up, captain and center of Edina's high school hockey team, Kendall Knight, was fairly certain Logan wouldn't be making it onto the team. Heck, he probably wouldn't make it through the tryouts. He looked unused to skating. Was someone who could barely move on the ice going to be quick and coordinated enough to pass or stop a puck? Was someone who was so small and frail looking going to be able to withstand a check?

Hell no.

But, Kendall Knight would give him a chance, just like every other _pathetic_ person who was trying out for a spot on the nearly empty team. They were the saddest bunch he had ever met.

Under few circumstances was the five foot eleven blond a mean guy. If someone messed with his baby sister, his best friends, his girlfriend? Then yes, he could be very mean. His temper would flare and the other end of the issue was usually unlucky. These same results could be obtained were someone to mess with another just for fun or if his pride was in danger.

However, as the anger arose within him this time, red hot tendrils snaking up and through his blood, it was for none of those reasons. No, it was because nearly every decent player at the school had gone on and graduated, leaving Kendall the captain of two well playing best friends and a slew of amateurs trying to place a spot for glory. And that pissed him off. Hockey was more than a sport. Hockey was his way of life. He lived it. He breathed it. He was completely devoted and dedicated to hockey and he wanted to spend his time after high school the same way. But if his team was as bad as it looked like it would be, there would be no college recruiters or NHL scouts coming to see their games, to see him. He would be left dreamless.

Kendall refused to let that happen.

"Alright!" he shouted, calling everyone in the rink to a stop. "I've seen all I need to for today. If you want a spot on this varsity team, you're going to have to do a hell of a lot better than what I saw today. What I saw today? A bunch of little boys trying to find their balance on the ice. If you want to help me lead the Hornets to championship, I need to see men out here from now on! And if you show up for all of the training sessions and all of the practices and scrimmages, I will make a man out of you. Tomorrow morning. Five to seven. Conditioning. Meet in the gym. After school? Back on the ice for continued tryouts. You're dismissed."

For a moment, he stood there effortlessly on his skates, waiting for the murmurs to start, to cease and for the "little boys" to skate away. After a few minutes, nearly everyone had headed off to the locker room. All that remained were Kendall, his two best friends, James and Carlos, and the small brunette who was certain to drop out. Maybe that's what he was doing now, Kendall surmised, as the boy approached. There was something odd about the way he glided over. Was he drawing up his shoulders and puffing out his chest? The blond nearly laughed. He was trying to look like a man. With his gaze cast down at his feet, though, and that pout, the attempt was all for naught.

"Yeah?" Kendall asked, arching one thick eyebrow. Upon being addressed, the brunette immediately lifted his head, brown gaze evenly meeting Kendall's green eyes. A medium sized hand was stuck out towards him, and the eyebrow arched higher. As it did so, the blond shook the hand. It was a firm handshake, but there were no calluses on the other's smooth skin. He had probably never held a hockey stick before.

"I'm Logan Mitchell. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said, giving a sort of crooked half smile.

"What are you doing?" Kendall asked. The other's hand fell from his and the smile eased away into a frown.

"I'm, uh, just, uh, introducing myself. You're the team captain and from my understanding, you're pretty much the coach, too, right? So, I thought I should formally meet you."

"Are you trying to suck up?"

"What? No!" Logan was so taken aback by the question, Kendall had to be surprised as well. If that wasn't what he was doing, then what _was_? "I just thought it was the right thing to do… You know, like introducing yourself to teachers and counselors and the like. I thought that this was the same sort of situation."

The captain stared down at the boy who was quickly turning red under the scrutiny. Who did that sort of thing?

"Most people our age don't introduce themselves like that," Kendall pointed out, and the kid's cheeks grew darker. "Look, Mitchell. This is hockey. There aren't too many formalities to it. No one's going to be polite and ask if they can check you into the boards. Don't worry about manners. Just worry about becoming a man. And learn how to skate. You didn't look solid out there."

"Sorry. I haven't been on the ice in a few years and I've got on my dad's old skates. They aren't the best fit," Logan apologized, awkwardly tugging in the hem of his shirt.

"Don't apologize. Just fix the problem. Now, there'll be plenty of time for you to prove yourself in the next few weeks, but I gotta go meet my girlfriend. Hit the locker room and get going."

That pouty lower lip was drawn in between perfect teeth.

"Actually, I was hoping to stay in the rink and practice for a little while. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Kendall shrugged. He skated away.

"Thanks!"

* * *

><p>"Sorry it's not going well for you, Babe," Cassie said before she popped another ketchup covered French fry in her mouth.<p>

Kendall Knight shook his head with a sigh. The two were currently on a mini-date at a local diner, having a snack and talking. Dates like this excited the blond's girlfriend more than a romantic picnic in the park.

"It's so frustrating. You should see the guys trying out. I don't know how I'm supposed to make a functioning team out of them, let alone a winning one. Cass, there was this one kid who came up to shake my hand. This small guy, Logan Mitchell-"

"Logan Mitchell?" Cassie asked, confusion etched across her countenance. "Really? He's trying out for _hockey_?"

"Do you know him?"

"Yeah. He's in my two AP classes this year. We've had some other classes in the past. He's the smartest guy in the whole school. Caught a glimpse of his schedule and he is way overbooked. I can't believe he'd try to play hockey. That kid's so… I don't know. Quiet. He only ever talks to answer questions and give presentations. I'm pretty sure he's gay, too."

Another French fry went into her mouth. Those lips held no pout. Those lips hid no perfect teeth.

"Maybe it's not the same guy," Kendall shrugged, taking a sip of his soda.

"He's not really tall, right? Like an inch taller than me or something? Totally pale. Brown eyes. Really dark brown hair that's kinda just flat. Pretty lips?"

"Pretty lips?" the blond questioned.

"Yeah. He's just got a nice mouth. White teeth, straight. Pouty lips that seem pretty moisturized. Really good smile," Cassie nonchalantly picked up another fry.

"And how did you notice this?"

Frankly, he was a little concerned that his girlfriend was studying another male's mouth so intently.

"He answers questions a lot and those presentations? They're so thorough and smart. I can't pay attention to all of it. So, I got bored a few times and watched his mouth. I'm not the only one. Some of the other girls in the class have done it, too. We've talked about it."

"Uh-huh. And why do you think he's gay?"

"I don't know. It's just the way he comes across to me and the way he carries himself. I've never seen him with a girl, then again, I've never seen him with a guy either… Anyway, I can't imagine he would be trying out for hockey. I'm pretty sure he's in, like, a ton of clubs, too."

"Weird," Kendall commented distractedly. It certainly was the same Logan. Cassie's description had fit, but why would a smart senior suddenly try to join sports? Especially when it was something as violent and tough as hockey. It made no sense. If he made it past the week and made the team, Kendall was asking.

* * *

><p>It was four thirty in the morning when the bright eyed and bushy eyebrowed blond rolled out of his mom's car. With his varsity hockey bag slung over his shoulder, he slothed his way to Edina's weight room. When the others arrived, it would be on him that they relied for instruction, inhibiting his own conditioning. He needed to be in top shape.<p>

As he stuck his key in the locked door, Kendall couldn't help but think how grateful he was for the copy the school had awarded him. It was stupid of them, considering who he was and his friends (with James and Carlos, there were pranks executed quite often; the seniority and varsity status they boasted tended to protect them). A satisfying click sounded. Hand falling to the door, it was suddenly stilled by a near silent shuffling. Despite the early time, the ever alert Knight whipped around. To say he was surprised would have been an understatement.

Slowly moving towards him was one Logan Mitchell, a large, full to bursting backpack evenly settled on both slim shoulders. Held between both hands was an open, heavy textbook. Beneath brown eyes were deeply set circles, but he was clearly awake, an alert shine in his gaze. Most importantly, he was there.

"Good morning," the brunette greeted in a hush, setting an awkward glance to his tennis shoe covered feet.

"Uh, morning," Kendall responded with a delay. "Not to be a dick or anything, but why are you here? I said five and it's four thirty."

"I know. I just thought I'd get here early and get supplementary training. But, I, uh, I had a moment of asininity and didn't realize that the gym would be closed." An embarrassed flush became pronounced in the pallid cheeks. "So, I've been waiting here and studying for my bio exam."

Recovered from his initial surprise, the blond pulled open the door, holding it for the smaller boy to make his way through.

"Thank you," Logan said politely as he edged into the room. The motion triggered the illumination of the lights in the ceiling. For a moment, he was blinded. Spots dancing before his eyes, he didn't see the corner of an elliptical jutting out. Foot catching onto it, the smart boy jerked forward. His sudden movement thrust his backpack up towards his head and the weight was threatening to throw his face into the ground.

"Woah!" Kendall took hold of the top strap, tugging the tipping male straight. Underestimating the weight of the bag and overestimating Logan's ability to handle himself, the blond suddenly found himself nearly off balance as well, the heavy backpack slamming into his front. "Dude!" he complained, now grabbing onto the shorter's arms to steady them both. Successful, his green eyes rolled. "Be careful. And what the hell do you have in this thing?" he asked as he stepped away.

"All of the text books I need for my first few periods, studying and some notebooks. The rest of it's already in my locker," Logan explained, sliding his backpack off of his shoulders and onto the floor.

"You have more?" The blond was incredulous. His massive varsity bag was filled with hockey gear, one binder and two notebooks. He might gave had a pencil or two. A pen was very questionable.

"I have to be prepared and study whenever I get a chance," Logan answered with a shrug as he lowered into a crouch. The text book he had carried was splayed across the cold tile floor. "Oh no," the brunette murmured, genuinely upset as he lifted the text into his hands. "The pages." They were bent, damaged. "Mrs. Quinn is going to be so disappointed."

Kendall settled at the chest press, ready to work muscles he hadn't focused on as much recently.

"Who?" the blond asked.

"Mrs. Quinn. The school librarian."

"You know the school librarian?" Kendall rose a dark eyebrow, setting his weights at the appropriate, fairly high number.

"Yeah. She's a really nice, classy woman," Logan answered, trying desperately to straighten out the pages. "I'm kind surprised you don't know her name. You've been at this school as long as I have." He paused, chewing his lower up before raising his eyes to Kendall's. "No offense."

"None taken," the blond began to move the weights, muscles flexing with every smooth pump. "I don't go to the library if I don't have to."

"I don't understand that. I go there every day. It's the best place to study and they've got a pleasantly large collection of medical books. But, then again, I'm a nerd." As he shut the book, he gave a wry half grin.

There was a silence. Kendall suspected that Logan was waiting for him to deny the claim. Kendall did not. Instead, he said:

"I wouldn't know. Aside from the fact that you're trying out for my team, I don't know who you are."

That grin returned. The brunette set his AP Biology text atop of his Jansport. As he stood up, he awkwardly glanced around, unsure of which machine to work at. Eventually, he settled at the bicep curl.

"A lot of people don't," Logan admitted as he stared at the weights to adjust. As Kendall continued to work his pectorals, he watched the smart boy with vague annoyance. The kid didn't look like he even knew what weight he was at, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn together. Soon enough, the crease smoothed out and he nodded at himself, selecting a few more metal blocks than Kendall would have guessed for him. "Those that do know me, know me because I'm a nerd or because they're trying to beat me academically." Logan shrugged and took hold of the bars.

His first rep was smooth. Impressive biceps contracted, bulging beneath the smart boy's cardigan. Why he had worn a cardigan for exercising, Kendall didn't care to learn. Instead, he was surprised and staring. Not a single part of him would have guessed that beneath that scrawny exterior there was muscle.

"What?" Logan asked nervously, red flitting across those pale cheeks.

"Nothing."

They worked in silence until the others arrived. One boy had already dropped out. It was not Logan Mitchell.

* * *

><p>The week passed. Each morning at four thirty, Kendall arrived for his own conditioning to find Logan waiting, a text book in his hands. Some times they conversed, the blond often asking the brunette what he was studying for. During the duration of their thirty minutes alone, there was always something new to learn about the smart boy. Most of the time, however, they worked; they sweated and they sat in a companionable silence. On occasion, they spotted for one another.<p>

Each after school try out, Logan was there and he showed that _he_ learned. The skill progression was shocking. Although there were still better players out there jonesing for a spot, few of them showed change. They had already become rooted in their own practices.

Practice had ended and like every time, the rest of the prospects promptly skated away to the locker room, ready to start their weekends and maybe, if they were responsible, rest their sore bodies. Carlos and James, unlike their usual sticking around, followed. They, being irresponsible seniors, were going to a party later that night. As had become routine, Logan skated up to the team captain.

"Excuse me, Kendall?" the smart boy addressed.

"Yeah?"

"Is it alright if I stay another half an hour on the ice?" he asked.

"If you don't care about sharing the rink with me," Kendall shrugged, although he was a little disgruntled himself. The brunette was invading his personal weight training time, his personal extra practice time _and_ his thoughts. The latter bothered the blond most of all. "I stay most Fridays to run through some extra drills."

"Oh," Logan blinked, lowering his head sheepishly. "Well, I'll only stay if you don't mind sharing with me, then. It is your place first, after all."

"Loges, it's no big deal," Kendall said, placing a hand on the brunette's head. The hair beneath his hand was so soft, nothing like his own mop of locks. "I don't mind sharing."

Logan glanced up again, lips parted slightly, face tinged pink.

"O-okay, then. Thank you. Do you… do you want me to stay on one side of the rink or…? I'll do my best to stay out of your way."

For a moment, Kendall was silent, committing an act he rarely did and that the other constantly did. He assessed. He assessed his options. Eventually:

"Nah." There was an accompanying shrug. "How about some one on one?"

It was Logan's turn to be silent and stare.

"Some one on one," he repeated, staring at Kendall as though he had grown an extra head.

"Yup. It'll be my last chance to check you out before I decide this year's team."

The boy looked completely intimidated by the idea, like he wanted to up and quit then. But Kendall had to give him credit. Instead he lifted his shoulders in a sigh and nodded.

"Okay then. How does this work then?"

"It's a one on one, Logan. It works like every other game of one on one. We play every position against each other."

"Okay. Sorry. When I researched how you play, it didn't mention any one on one," the smart boy admitted.

"You researched how to play hockey?" Kendall asked, one of his prominent eyebrows disappearing beneath his bushy mane. This kid had to be kidding. By the embarrassed expression etched deeply in his features, he wasn't.

"I've never really played hockey and the few times I tried to watch, I always had homework, essays, studying, chores, so, I missed the rules and the strategies and the techniques. Or I might have been watching a medical show… But I've been researching to learn as much as I can so I'm not as behind."

"You are such…"

"A nerd?" Logan offered with that grin he always gave.

"Kind of."

"I know."

He still smiled with ease.

* * *

><p>The locker room. It was practically Kendall's sixth home. Prior to that was his own home, Carlos's home, James's home, the ice rink and the gym. And as he walked in, he immediately started pulling his jersey overhead (helmet already unbuckled and tossed elsewhere). As he settled at his locker, his gaze shifted back to an awkward Logan standing in the doorway.<p>

"You wanna shut that?" the blond asked.

"Maybe I should just go…"

"Is there something wrong?" Kendall sat to work on unlacing his ice skates.

"I'm just going to say this now. You should know because it's probably going to factor into your deciding whether or not I'm on the team." Until this point, the brown doe eyes were at his feet, but now they raised to meet green eyes. "I'm gay."

The silence in the air wasn't thick, although it looked like Logan was about to choke on it.

"And?"

"It's not a problem?"

"No. Why would it be?"

"A lot of guys get uncomfortable knowing that I'm homosexual. I get the feeling that they all think that I'm attracted to them just because I like males."

"Well, I've got a girlfriend. So, I don't really care."

"Cassie Bennett, right?" Logan asked, still stuck in the doorway.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"We have a few classes together. She's really pretty."

"I know. Thanks."

"So it's really not a problem?" Logan asked. "You don't want me to wait outside while you change?"

"It's really not a problem. Just because you're gay, doesn't mean you're going to be attracted to me and checking me out, right?"

The thick, visible swallow was nearly audible.

"R-right."

"So you should probably change, too. I gotta lock up after I go on the weekends."

"Right," Logan said again and finally entered the locker room, the door unintentionally slamming behind him.

While the smart boy began to change slowly, Kendall finished up quickly, anxious to get home. It was Fish Stick Friday after all. Carlos and James were fully aware and very likely to show up to eat dinner at the Knight's. Before the blond could leave, however, the other had to be ready. With a sigh, he settled on the bench. As the brunette did the same, shirt off and ready to untie the old skates on his feet, the question Kendall had wanted the answer to since Monday, the question that had adamantly pestered him all week, returned.

"Hey Logan. Can I ask you something?"

"Um, sure. If I have an answer, I'd be happy to give it to you." The half smile returned.

"Why are you trying out for the team?" Kendall deadpanned.

That curve of the lips turned the other way and the brunette's hands stilled briefly.

"I suppose you deserve an answer as the hockey team captain. I… I want to be a doctor."

Kendall immediately cut him off. "What does being a doctor have to do with hockey? Trying to get used to seeing injuries?" the blond joked.

"No." Logan spoke with such seriousness. "To get into the best pre-med programs and the best medical schools, you have to be the best. So, I have spent _years_ working my hardest academically, joining clubs to add to my extra curriculars and I've logged over a hundred hours volunteering at the hospital. But my résumé is still missing a sport."

"Why hockey?"

"My dad played hockey when he was in high school. And he was going to teach me how to play and I was going to join the team in freshman year, but… But he…" Logan took a deep breath, pale chest rising and falling heavily. "He was diagnosed with small cell carcinoma lung cancer at the end of my eighth grade year. By the time we got him diagnosed, it had already metastasized. At that stage, any treatment is just to relieve symptoms, not to cure. He made it only a couple of rounds of chemo before he died. After that, I just couldn't bring myself to try hockey. But when I realized that I needed a sport on my application, I knew that hockey was the right one. So, here I am."

Logan Mitchell might have had something special about him, Kendall decided as his gaze continued to settle on the serious, half dressed smart boy.

"That kind of reminds me of my dad," the blond smiled. "He died when I was six. But he started teaching me hockey as soon as he could. He loved the sport almost as much as I do."

"How did your dad die? If you don't mind me asking," Logan said.

"Nah. I don't mind. He was shot. My dad was a cop with Carlos's dad. They were partners. Something went wrong and he ended up dead. There wasn't much suffering. Didn't even make it to the hospital."

"I'm sorry."

The blond shrugged.

"I still learned a lot from him. A life unlived isn't a life at all. And I learned hockey, the love of my life. I feel worse for my baby sister. She was two and doesn't remember him much."

"Oh? You have a little sister?" Logan asked.

"Yeah," Kendall nodded. "Katie. She's eleven and such a schemer. Girl is diabolically brilliant. Got any siblings yourself?"

"No. It's just my mom and I."

The two continued to talk for hours in that locker room, forgetting other obligations and one's state of partial undress. It was only when James and Carlos texted Kendall that he was going to miss dinner that they realized it had grown late. Stunned, Logan quickly pulled off those old ice skates that now held new meaning for Kendall and he changed. Out of politeness, Kendall invited the other over for fish sticks. Out of politeness, Logan declined and said that he had a lot of studying he had missed and needed to catch up on. They parted ways. Logan drove home. Kendall walked. As he did so, he thought. One odd thing that crossed his mind? Without a shirt, that pale boy wasn't as scrawny as he seemed…

* * *

><p>It was Sunday night and Kendall was at a loss. In less than twelve hours, his roster needed to be posted and the team had yet to be decided.<p>

"It's not that hard," James said, rolling his eyes as he tossed a baseball up in the air. The pretty boy was currently laying back on the blond's bed. Carlos was on the floor, sprawled out. "Whoever doesn't make it, gets stuck on the reserves. No harm done."

"No harm done? James, I'm the captain. If I don't pick the right team, we don't win."

"We have to win this year," Carlos said. "Girls don't like losers."

"Girls don't like helmets, either," James shot back.

"Hey. Stop it. This is serious," Kendall ordered.

"Oh. I forgot. Kendall only gets serious when it's hockey," James said. "Seriously. Just choose the best players. It seemed obvious to me."

"But these so called best aren't going to get better. They're going to stagnate. And we have to think about team chemistry."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Carlos said. "Can't we take a break? I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry, Carlitos," James rolled his eyes. "Anyway, sounds like you have someone in mind, Kendall. Who?"

"Logan Mitchell."

"Who's he?"

"Isn't he the dude who's like, just barely taller than me?" Carlos asked.

"Yeah. That one."

"He's so scrawny! Dude, I don't know if he's exactly hockey material." James sat up, swinging his legs over to hang off the bed as he stared at the blond in the computer chair.

"But he's improving. Every day of try outs, he was better. And he's dedicated. He showed up at the weight room earlier than everyone else, including you two. And he stayed after every practice. He could be better."

"He could hardly skate on Monday," James said.

"But he looked like he was okay on Friday," Carlos shrugged.

"And I don't think he's wearing good skates. The were his dad's. They might not even be the right size. If he had a good pair of skates, he'd probably be a little more solid. And he's not as scrawny as he looks. James, his biceps might be bigger than yours."

The pretty boy let out a shriek. Immediately, he flexed his muscles. "He didn't mean it," he cooed to his biceps before shooting Kendall a glare.

"All I'm saying is that he has a lot of potential. He's a fast learner and he's willing to work. And he's a good guy," the blond continued.

"You're the captain, Kendall," Carlos said. "So whatever you wanna do."

"Yeah. You're our best friend, too, so we're behind you, whatever you want to do. Even if you're wrong about my muscles."

"Thanks guys."

* * *

><p>A tinge of excitement coursed through Kendall's blood as he approached the weight room, official roster in hand. It was mere moments away from being officially posted to the door. Logan was going to be the first applicant to see his name on the list. The blond almost couldn't wait to see the reaction of the smart boy.<p>

But as he stepped up to the door and placed the paper against it, there was no familiar shuffle behind him. He turned around, expecting Logan to show soon. After five minutes of waiting, Kendall gave up. He returned to his normal routine of working the weights alone. The silence was lonely and empty. Maybe choosing the smart boy as a part of his team hadn't been an intelligent decision.

"Kendall! I am so sorry I'm late!" Logan burst through the door fifteen minutes later. The circles beneath his eyes were deeper than usual and his brown gaze had a tint of red. For the first time, the boy had an overall unkempt appearance, his sweater vest awkwardly holding down one side of his collar, but hidden beneath the other on the opposite side. His hair wasn't as brushed forward as it usually was, tufts sticking up.

"You okay?" Kendall asked, anger drifting away to concern as the other dropped his backpack.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you for asking. It's just… It was a rough night and I slept through my alarm for the first time in years."

"What happened last night?"

"Do I have to?" Logan practically whined, eyes wide with vulnerability.

"No. Not if you don't want to. Just know that as your teammate, I'm here for you," Kendall said.

"Teammate?" the smart boy asked.

"It's Monday. Did you check the roster?" A smirk tugged up the corners of Kendall's lips. The sudden blank look on Logan's face suggested that he had completely forgotten. A few seconds later, he was racing to the front door to check. A finger lifted to trace the names. It wasn't long before he came to his own name. As much was evident by the freezing of his finger, the rise in eyebrows, the general surprise and the quick glance at Kendall.

"Seriously?" he asked. "Am I really on the team?"

"Yup," Kendall nodded, that smirk still playing on his lips.

When the grin came to Logan, there was no half about it. It was a full blown smile, eyes alit with excitement and gratitude. He launched himself at Kendall, wrapping his arms around him in a strong hug.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I promise, I'll get better."

"I know you will," Kendall said, returning the unexpected embrace. "That's why I put you on the team. You've got potential."

"Thank you," Logan said one last time before removing himself, to take a seat at a machine. "This means so much to me."

"Don't worry about it. I'm still going to ride your ass like everyone else. Probably harder. You're going to work to keep that spot."

"I wouldn't dream of anything else."

Another one of those companionable silences permeated the air until the smart boy spoke up again.

"Last night…" He couldn't continue. It was difficult, Kendall saw. It was present in the sudden tenseness in the other's body, in the strain on his face. But after a deep breath, Logan started again. "I told my mom about trying out for hockey. It's nearing the three year anniversary of my dad's passing. She just… broke down. Work's been stressful for her lately and all of it just was too much. And I…"

"Broke down, too?" Kendall offered softly.

"Yeah," he nodded meekly.

"Well now you've got a team by your side if you need support."

"Thank you. That means a lot to me, too."

"It's just how it is when you're on a team."

It's just how it is when you care about someone. After one short week, Logan Mitchell had certainly made Kendall care about him.

**A/N: This was written for Love and Peace Forever's Disney Kogan Challenge. The song I chose was "I'll Make a Man Out of You" from Mulan. This is only chapter one, in which friendship is established, so, pre-Kogan. I intend to have one more chapter, in which a relationship is established. That chapter probably won't be out in time for the challenge. Realistically, I may rewrite this entire thing when I have a chance (because I don't like how this turned out and where it went). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. For those of you who read Poetic (or will be waiting for a part two of this), please check my profile page for information regarding delays. Thanks for reading! Sincerely, N.E..out**

**Oh! By the way. Edina is a real high school in Minnesota that has a pretty decent hockey program and is apparently a very smart school (unless Wikipedia lied to me again. It's happened a few times). But, it's what I used, just so you're all aware.**


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